


Acts Of Kindness

by Sixthlight



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bad Matchmaking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/pseuds/Sixthlight
Summary: In which Nicolò just wants Yusuf to marry someone he can love, and it's slightly less embarrassing than the thing with the horse trough.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 23
Kudos: 441





	Acts Of Kindness

“Come here,” Nicolò said, tugging at Yusuf’s arm, and Yusuf, of course, came at once. He and Nicolò had been the best of friends ever since Nicolò had come to his mother’s court five years ago, not quite a hostage and not quite a fosterling (as Yusuf understood the Frankish custom). A guest, perhaps it could best be said. 

Well, alright, there had been that unfortunate period at the beginning when Nicolò had been sullen and Yusuf had been suspicious, culminating in the incident with the horse trough. Which would not have been an incident at _all_ if his sister Yasmin had not _entirely_ overreacted to it; Noor, with much better sense, had been watching to see which one of them emerged the victor. Yusuf’s mother had made his father reprimand them. Yusuf still tried not to think about it. But that aside, and that was years ago now and really forgotten by everybody (except any time he and Nicolò were within sight of both Noor and a horse trough), they were as close as any two men at court, and if Nicolò asked him to come he would of course come. 

“What is it?” he asked, as Nicolò led them into one of the smaller gardens. 

“Noor is walking here with Lady Nile,” he said. “And I am sure if you appear she will find something to look at on the other side of the garden. Noor will, I mean.”

“But…why?”

Nicolò rolled his eyes. “So you can talk to Lady Nile, of course.”

“Is there something I need to speak with her about?” Yusuf asked, now very confused. He had a great deal of respect for Lady Nile; she was here with an embassy from the Keita, south of the desert. They had had several very pleasant (and decorous, Yusuf was not going to embarrass his mother) conversations about tilework and other things of artistic interest. But he had no particular reason to begin a conversation with her alone. 

“You seemed to enjoy her company very much,” Nicolò said, eyes narrowing, as if he thought Yusuf was being purposefully obtuse. “So I am giving you the chance to pursue it. That is, Noor and I are.”

“Nico,” Yusuf hissed, “if I do that and any word gets out someone will probably demand that I marry her.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Now the corner of Nicolò’s mouth curled up, like he thought he knew an amusing secret Yusuf did not. 

“Yes! I don’t want to marry her! _And_ I don’t think my mother wants me to. She would have said as much if that were so.” Yusuf realised at once what was going on. “Nicolò, God give me patience - is this like the thing with Sébastien all over again?”

Count Sébastien had been a visitor from the Frankish side of the sea; he and Yusuf had made very fast friends, and Nicolò had been convinced that maybe a match was in the offing. Which it had never been; Sébastien had already been promised; and it had not been that sort of friendship, besides. 

“And now I think about it,” Yusuf went on, “you insisted that we go riding with Andromache, when she visited, and then lost yourself somewhere, and - what are you trying to do?”

“Nothing!” Nicolò insisted. “Or only favours. Of course your mother is going to make some good alliance with your marriage; it might as well be to someone you…to someone…oh, never mind.”

“Someone I what?”

“Someone you can love,” Nicolò said, reluctantly. “Who could love you. You are so good at it; you would be miserable if it could not be returned.”

He had such a still face, most of the time; it had taken Yusuf years to learn to read it. Now it was as if they were back in those first few tense months, when Nicolò had been much closer to a hostage in truth; a youngest son of many, easy enough to spare, Yusuf’s mother had once said. The Genoese were not easy neighbours, even with a sea between them. 

Back then, Yusuf had often mistaken Nicolò’s worry for anger, or his humour for scorn. Now - once again he could not say what Nicolò was feeling, except that it was some emotion far too great for the topic at hand. He really did not know why Nicolò thought he had to take this burden upon himself. Certainly he did not realise how awkward it was that he had. But then that was Nicolò; he always sought to be kind.

“I know my responsibilities, Nicolò,” he said. “My mother will make some alliance, as you say, and I will learn to be diplomatic about it. It will be well. Besides.” He should not say this; but perhaps it would put Nicolò off; lack of success certainly had not, so far. “I…have already lost my heart; you must stop trying to give it to people, and disappointing them.”

Nicolò started at this like he had been struck “You - but you must tell me who it is! Why would you not tell me?”

“I do not like to dwell upon the unattainable,” Yusuf said, very lightly, trying to make a joke of it; Yusuf, so good at love, of course the type to be heart-stricken over someone he could not have. If he made it light, then Nicolò would perhaps not notice anything wrong, or pretend to not notice. He did always try to be kind. 

And there was nothing more unattainable for the Queen’s eldest child and heir than his friend who he had once tried to dunk in a horse trough, the unwanted youngest son of a difficult neighbour. It would not be kind to offer what could not be had; Yusuf could surely do Nicolò no less kindness than Nicolò always tried to do for him. All that was assuming Nicolò even wanted anything of that sort from him, which most likely he did not.

“You dwell upon everything,” Nicolò said, shaking his head. “Yusuf. Tell me who it is, and I promise I will stop - I will let this be. If it is so truly unattainable.”

It was exactly the wrong thing to say, as far as Yusuf was concerned. He could take almost anything except Nicolò taking him by both arms, eyes shining with concern. 

“Nicolò…” he said, searching for the right words, the ones that would make Nicolò laugh and clap him on the back and step away, like Sébastien or Andromache might, like the dearest friend that he was and had to remain.

“Oh, _I_ see,” Nicolò said in response, sounding like nobody quite so much as Yusuf’s father when he was debating a point of theology. Which was not in any way the thought Yusuf would have wanted to have in his mind when Nicolò kissed him. Unfortunately, Nicolò did not give Yusuf time to set his thoughts straight. 

Nicolò kissed him, his mouth inexplicably soft when his kiss was not, and his hand softer on Yusuf’s cheek. Yusuf nobly considered pushing him away for at _least_ the time it might take for a single grain to slip through an hourglass, and then didn’t. What possible reason could he have for that when he had Nicolò in his arms?

There was a short startled exclamation, and it turned out, in the end, that the second most embarrassing thing Noor (and the Lady Nile) could catch Yusuf and Nicolò doing, after trying to drown each other in a horse trough, was kissing in a corner of the gardens like their lives depended on it. But Yusuf found he didn’t mind; he was seized with the sudden, irrepressible conviction that maybe this was going to turn out alright after all. 

(”I still don’t know what I’m going to do about your marriage,” his mother said later, “but if I hadn’t been willing to live with this I would have sent him back to Genoa at _least_ two years ago, _truly_ , my son, are you the only person who didn’t know this would happen?”

“Almost the only person,” Nicolò said, and Yusuf loved him so much that he chose to forgive him the hint of a laugh in his voice; besides, it was laughter aimed at himself as well.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted (and originally posted) [here on Tumblr](https://sixth-light.tumblr.com/post/642902483731087360/fic-prompt-idea-nicky-and-joe-are-friends-in-a): "Nicky and Joe are Friends (in a pseudo historical romance setting) and Nicky is trying to matchmake for Joe because he thinks he deserves a ~~romance. It goes poorly until it doesn’t."


End file.
